The Bloodbender's Tale
by MonPetitChouchou
Summary: AU. Katara thought she had seen the worst the Fire Nation could do the day they killed her mother. She was wrong. In her eleventh year, they came back. Only this time, they took her freedom away. Led back to the Fire Nation in chains, Katara embarks on a dark journey of vengeance and self-discovery. But what will happen when her heart and her need for revenge collide? Zutara.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer****: **I'm not sure why exactly I need to put a disclaimer saying I don't own Avatar the Last Airbender, but pretty much every other fanfic has this so...yeah...here's mine. **I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender or any of its affiliated characters.** Also, enjoy the story!

* * *

**Prologue**

The full moon filled the dark sky with a bright, eerie glow. Once, Katara had been taught that the moon was her friend, that she and her people received their strength from it. Trapped in a foreign land, it was the last remaining vestige of her home; but now, its presence only taunted her, reminding her of everything she had lost: her mother, her father, her brother. Even herself. When she'd needed the Moon Spirit's strength the most, it had failed her. Now, she hated it.

Her long, unkempt hair stuck to her bare shoulders as she crawled desperately through the dense bush of the countryside. The humidity was unbearable here, even at night, but she barely noticed. Katara was weak. It had been days since she'd had real food. Unfamiliar with Fire Nation plants, Katara had been too scared to try to scavenge, fearing that she'd eat something poisonous, but now she was regretting that choice as her stomach angrily howled.

Water, as well, had been hard to come by. Her lips felt as cracked and dry as the great deserts of the Earth Kingdom. Every noise sounded like the drip of a waterfall or the babble of a brook, but no matter how long she walked, the water she so desperately needed remained elusive. With every step she lost hope of ever making it out of the Fire Nation alive. How ironic for a waterbender such as herself to die from dehydration. She was sure the Spirits would have a good chuckle at that.

Before, she prayed to Tui and La every night, giving thanks for her life and her bending, but it had been so long since her last prayer, years probably. The gratitude and respect she once felt towards the Spirits had long since dried up in the harsh reality of her imprisonment in the Fire Nation. It wasn't just her tongue that was dry, but also her soul. In the beginning, she had tried to stay resilient, never giving up hope that her father and Sokka would break free of their own chains and rescue her, but as weeks turned to months and months to years her optimism festered and she was left with nothing but resentment.

The coal mines of the Fire Nation were notorious for their harsh conditions and brutal labor. An average slave lasted only four to six years working underground before he died from either exhaustion or breathing ailments. The women were lucky to survive for more than a year. Though not as secure as other prisons, such as the famed Boiling Rock, the coal mines were still nearly impossible to escape. Given minuscule rations and beaten for the smallest of infractions, prisoners of the mines were thought to be physically incapable of escape.

Katara could still remember the cataclysmic night that had started it all. It had been a staggering twenty-five moons since her village was burnt to the ground and her tribe enslaved. Katara had been a child, only eleven, when she'd arrived at the Fire Nation coal mines as a war slave. In two year's time much had changed; she was slowly becoming a woman, something she would have looked forward to in the Southern Water Tribe. In the mines, however, this meant that Katara was entering dangerous waters. Female slaves were treated like little more than chattel among the mine guards, to be passed around for sport and pleasure. As her womanly figure emerged, Katara began to notice the lingering eyes of the guards.

Late one night, under the faint light of a crescent moon, Katara had tip-toed out of the barren tent that she shared with a large group of female prisoners. Though she was not permitted to be out during night, and risked punishment by doing so, her full bladder had been too persistent to ignore. Crawling between the rows of slave tents, Katara had been halfway to her destination when she heard it. Muffled screams came from a large tent to her right. The rich red canvas and brocade tassels indicated that it belonged to a guard, one of the higher-ranking officers. Katara stood frozen, the need to relieve herself completely forgotten, as the screams turned to pleas and loud, raucous laughter bubbled up in response. Her body quaked uncontrollably as she fell to the ground, her hands held tightly to her ears, trying to block out the sickening noises.

After a few minutes, the door to the tent was pulled open and a body met solid ground with a hard thump. Katara couldn't see anything past the shadows of the tent opening, but a sneering voice carried over to where she lay hidden.

"Get out of here, whore!" the voice commanded before the canvas door fluttered closed. Slowly, Katara crept towards the body, the shape of a woman appearing as she neared. Olive skin and almond-shaped eyes stared back at Katara from behind strands of dark hair. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, allowing Katara to make out a smattering of bruises along the woman's arms, as well as deep cuts to her lip and face. However, the most glaring injury came from the woman's pelvic region, where blood had pooled around the ripped clothing. At the sight of this, a great need rose up within Katara; she desperately wanted to help this woman, but she didn't know what to do. Laying a hand on the woman's forehead, she leaned closer.

"W-What's wrong?" Katara stuttered, fear rising up from her belly and causing her to stumble over her words. However, the woman didn't notice Katara's stammer. She only continued to stare vacantly up at the starless sky. Tears collected in Katara's eyes as she struggled to help. Glancing around fervently, she saw something in her peripherals. A trough of water rested outside another large tent where the guards' komodo rhinos were kept. Suddenly, a tentative idea bloomed in Katara's mind.

Quickly, she crept over towards the trough, finding an empty bucket lying on the ground. Back at the woman's side with a bucket of water, Katara prepared to do something she had sworn she would never do again: waterbend. In her tribe, she had been the last waterbender—a secret that Katara's mother had given her life to protect. When the fire nation had attacked her tribe, it had not been at random; they had been searching for the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe. Katara's mother had sacrificed herself, claiming to be the last waterbender, and Katara had never seen her again. Since the loss of her mother, she had vowed to never bend again. But glancing at the injured woman, Katara knew she must break that promise.

Her hand glided over the water, feeling tiny tendrils of it nip at her fingers. Even after so long, the water responded to her like an obedient dog. Back in her tribe, Katara had heard the elders whisper of great waterbenders from the Northern Tribe that used their bending to heal. Though she had never had any real waterbending instruction and knew that healing was a hard skill to master, Katara would try anything if it meant helping the ravaged woman. Glancing down, she saw that the woman's eyes were now closed; panicking, Katara lightly shook the woman. Her almond-shaped eyes blinked open as if she was coming out of a daze.

"What's your name?" Katara asked, trying to keep her awake. A lengthy pause swelled until Katara could barely stand it.

"Jyoti. That's my name," the woman exhaled quietly. "What are you doing to me?" she questioned with a tinge of alarm in her voice. She tried to sit up, but Katara placed a soothing hand on her shoulder.

"I…I'm going to help you." Katara hesitated, unsure if revealing her waterbending would do her harm or good. A bitter, wheezing laugh bubbled up from Jyoti's cracked lips, causing more blood to flow from the wound there. The noise sounded so wrong to Katara's ears, full of tart acidity.

"Don't. I'm better off dead," Jyoti rasped. Her eyes took on a faraway look as she glanced up at the sky. A frail hand reached up and touched Katara's cheek.

"Such a pretty little thing…" Jyoti whispered, as if she was talking to herself. Katara grasped the woman's hand so she could lift it off her face, but she was suddenly yanked down forcefully, inches from Jyoti's face. Up close, she could see that the woman's eyes were a startling shade of green, crisp and striking, but filled with a crazed madness.

"They'll just love you," she crooned softly.

"W-Who?" Katara asked, unease erupting in her stomach. Another sluggish laugh rang out at her question.

"The guards," Jyoti hissed, her face filling with unconstrained malice, "Soon enough, one will take you to his bed. Every night you'll fight, struggle, and pray to the Spirits, but it won't matter…unless…" the woman's voice drifted off, the anger and hate washing away, leaving a blankness that was somehow worse than the insanity. Katara gripped Jyoti's arm tightly, rousing the woman into sentience.

"Unless what?"

"Unless you escape." The words, whispered quietly, hung in the night air as if frozen. Fear slithered around Katara's gut, clenching it in a vise-like grip that left her paralyzed. Jyoti was a madwoman, of that Katara was certain. Nobody escaped the mines.

"Impossible," Katara breathed. Though Jyoti's prediction of her future was terrifying enough to make Katara break out in a cold sweat, she wasn't delusional enough to believe she held any chance of escape.

"Impossible?" the woman echoed. "No. Not with this." A hard metal object was quickly pressed into the palm of Katara's hand. Glancing down, she saw a rusty skeleton key sitting in her palm.

"What―" Katara began, only to be interrupted.

"It unlocks an old tunnel in the mine shafts. Centuries ago, the first to mine these mountains dug many escape tunnels, in case of cave-ins. The tunnels led through the mountain and spilled out into villages in the valley. This is the only one still accessible."

Katara stared at the woman, shocked. "How did…who gave you…what?" she breathed quietly. Her hands felt heavy with the weight of they key lying there. The bucket of water lay beside her, all notions of healing completely forgotten. Katara leaned down close to Jyoti's face, finally gathering her thoughts. "How did you find this out?"

The vicious look returned to Jyoti's face. "From _him_," she hissed, jerking her head towards the guard's tent.

"A high-ranking guard told you how to escape and gave you the means to do it?" Katara questioned suspiciously.

"Of course not," Jyoti wheezed, "He claimed me when I first came to the mines, a years ago. I was nineteen. Every night that he took me I wanted to die. I even tried a few times. Then, I started looking for a way to escape. I searched his tent when he fell asleep one night and found the key. Later, I found a piece of parchment with the map of the tunnels printed on it."

"Why tell me, then? Why give me your only chance of escape?" Katara interrupted. Jyoti's spring green eyes filled with pain, anger, and…despair.

"Tonight was to be the night I escaped. He must have sensed my hope, or seen it in my eyes. His fists were harsher than usual, his tongue cruel and mocking. Now, there's no way I'd make it through the tunnel like this," she gestured to her injuries, "Not to mention I'd leave a convenient blood trail for them to follow."

"But I could wrap your wounds and help you through the tunnels. We can both―"

"No," Jyoti murmured, "Even if you helped me, neither of us would make it out of the tunnel before the he noticed the key missing. Not with me slowing you down." The woman turned her head back up to the sky and Katara could sense that she was miles away from the harsh Fire Nation mines. "I have nothing left to offer this world," she whispered. "But you do. I see it in your eyes. What's your name, girl?"

"Katara," she answered. Jyoti smiled, a soft curling of the lips that turned her heart-shaped face stunning.

"That's a beautiful name. You're Water Tribe, right?" Jyoti asked. She nodded _yes_. "Well, Katara of the Water Tribe, can you do me one favor?"

"What?" Katara asked, eyes intently boring into Jyoti's.

"Make them pay."

Even now, nearly a month after that night, the words were a heavy weight on Katara's heart. Jyoti had handed Katara a bag of stolen rations and the map, then told her to leave. Before Katara had a chance to argue, Jyoti had taken out a red-lacquered dagger with the Fire Nation insignia on it, closed her eyes, and ran the blade across her throat. She had watched helplessly as blood poured from Jyoti's neck. Katara's tears had mixed with the blood as life left the woman and her body drained of color, but even in death a small smile graced Jyoti's beautiful face. She had finally found peace.

Katara had fled the mines using Jyoti's tunnel, eventually finding her way out of the mountains and into a small valley town. From there she followed the coast and headed East. She had traveled at night and slept during the day, making sure to stay well clear of villages and towns, any place with people. She had been able to make Jyoti's stolen rations last her for a couple of weeks, but now she was out of food and starving. Disoriented and weak, Katara's thoughts rambled. She couldn't help but replay Jyoti's last words over and over in her head. _Make them pay. Make them pay. Make them pay_.

Katara's mind was so jumbled that she wasn't watching her feet. One of her toes tripped over an exposed root, sending her tumbling down a steep hill. She braced for a hard impact, but instead, something soft cushioned her body from the fall. Dragging her nose out the dirt, Katara looked around with wide eyes. Surrounding her was a massive field of flowers. Even at night she could make out their stunning red color. She plucked one from the ground, admiring its soft petals.

"They're called Fire Lilies," a raspy voice echoed from behind her. Startled, Katara swung around. A weathered old woman stood hunched over among the flowers, the full moon glowing brightly behind her. Katara noticed the woman's red robes and the small flame headpiece that secured her topknot. She was Fire Nation. Katara scrambled backwards, away from the old woman.

"I won't hurt you, child," she assured, slowly inching towards a wary Katara. "You look thirsty, would you like some water?" The old woman reached into her robes and pulled out a waterskin. Her eyes locked on the precious container of water as if under a trance. Katara, her body too parched to care, greedily bended the water straight from the waterskin and into her mouth without a second thought. The cool liquid was a balm to her dry lips. It slid down her throat, rejuvenating Katara from the inside out. Only once she'd drank her fill did Katara's mind process what she'd done. Horrified, her eyes flew the old woman, the old _Fire Nation_ woman who had just seen her _waterbend_.

"You're a waterbender," the woman breathed, amazement filling her face. Katara's whole body shook as she broke out in a nervous sweat. But before she could run, the old woman gave a twirl of her long, gnarled fingers. Katara watched as the remaining water in the waterskin jumped out and separated into three tiny balls that chased each other around in a circle before dissolving into snowflakes. Astounded, she looked to the old woman.

"Who are you?" Katara wondered in awe. She'd never met another waterbender before, and to find her first one in the middle of the Fire Nation? Katara couldn't believe it. She watched as the old woman's face split into a wide smile.

"My name is Hama."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hi there, welcome to my first story. Please try and take it easy on me, it has been a while since I watched ATLA. Obviously this story takes place in an alternate universe, but I am going to try and weave in some parts of the original ATLA story. I haven't figured out the whole plot exactly yet, so I'm open to suggestions, although I do have a general direction that I want it to head (Zutara :D). If you catch any truly terrible spelling/grammar mistakes or major plot holes that don't match up with the Avatar world, let me know!


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ or any of its affiliated characters.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Four Years Later**

"Katara? Wake up, Katara!" An aged, yet surprisingly firm hand shook Katara's shoulder as the young waterbender snuggled deeper into her warm bed.

"Just a little longer, Hama. The sun's barely up," Katara mumbled tiredly. She was right; the golden rays of the sun were only slightly peaking up from the horizon, draping the sky in a breathtaking gradient of blues and oranges.

Hama chuckled good-naturedly at her groggy apprentice. "I see you still haven't adjusted to Fire Nation sleeping habits. Remember, Katara, when you're in enemy territory you must do as the enemy does to prevent detection. If our enemies rise with the sun, so must we," the old woman stated in a solemn tone, as if reciting from a poem she knew by heart. "But I also need you to get up so you can buy some cabbages from the market. We're expecting new boarders at noon," the old woman added, the previous seriousness draining from her voice.

Katara grumbled something under her breath about "stupid Fire Nation early birds," but was abruptly cut off as she heard the familiar whizzing of ice claws aimed at her head. Without any conscious thought, or even the opening of her eyes, Katara swept an arm to the basin of water beside her bed and quickly brought up an ice shield. She heard the ice claws hit her shield as her eyes rapidly blinked open. Hama stood at the foot of her bed, wearing a pleased smile.

"Very good, Katara! Your reflexes have improved greatly!"

The waterbender flushed with delight at her mentor's praise. Oddly enough, it wasn't the first time the old woman had spontaneously flung deadly pieces of ice at her; last time, however, it was a water whip to the face when Katara had been brushing her teeth. The old master knew how to keep a training waterbender on her toes. "Now, how about those cabbages?" Hama reminded.

Stumbling out of bed, Katara bathed quickly before bending her hair dry and pulling the upper layer into a simple topknot secured with red ribbon. In her bureau she found a faded red tank-top that ended just before her navel and a gold pair of loose harem pants that she layered under a red skirt. A silk choker with a gold pendant was hastily tied around Katara's neck before she bolted down to the kitchen. After so many years of wearing her mother's necklace she couldn't stand to have her neck bare. Unfortunately not even the most expensive necklace in the Fire Nation could replace the treasured one she had left behind in the South Pole.

Hama was brewing a pot of tea and humming an old Water Tribe tune when Katara walked into the kitchen. The two moved around each other in a comfortable silence that was a product from years of living under the same roof. Their relationship was one of teacher and pupil, as well as parent and child. After taking Katara in as her own, Hama had begun teaching the young waterbender everything she knew. Through her mentor's teachings, Katara had learned to love the Moon Spirit again and had advanced into a formidable waterbender on the cusp of mastering her element.

With Hama's knowledge also came her influence. Late one night, shortly after she had taken in Katara, the old woman had told her the story of how she ended up in the Fire Nation. Hama's eyes had burned with contempt as she had spoken of the Fire Nation prison where she had been held against her will. And though the Hundred Year War had ended two years ago with the assassination of Fire Lord Ozai by his demented daughter, the old woman had hardly let go of this intense hatred. "Never forget and never forgive," she would remind Katara time and again. The young waterbender had grudges of her own to keep as well. The delicate green eyes of a fellow prisoner; the memory of her brother Sokka's laugh; remembering her father dragged in chains to a Fire Nation war vessel; all of these things filled a dark pit in Katara's heart that screamed for vengeance. Hama saw this in her young pupil and encouraged it; the War might have been over, but the old woman's plans had just begun.

After draining her cup of tea until only the dregs remained, Katara grabbed her waterskin and secured it around her waist, concealing it between her heavy skirt and pants. Hama had taught her to never leave the inn without it, as it was her greatest weapon. Tucking a few coins into her pockets she prepared to leave for the market.

"Don't forget your gold cuffs," Hama reminded, nodding to the thick bracelets that Katara left in a bowl near the door of the inn.

Sighing heavily, she slipped the clunky jewelry on her wrists, immediately feeling weighed down and trapped by the pieces of metal. It was a necessary precaution though, Katara mused as she walked into her small village, headed for the market booths. As a slave in the mines she had been branded with the Fire Nation insignia on her left wrist. Since training with Hama she had learned a bit of healing through trial and error; Hama didn't possess that particular gift, but Katara had managed to teach herself after learning the basics of waterbending. Even so, the burn had been too old to completely heal. The pale, pinkish symbol stood out plainly against her deeply tanned skin. The cuffs seemed only to irritate the burn and make her wrists itch terribly, but what they lacked in comfort they made up for in covering the brand from prying Fire Nation eyes.

From the beginning, Katara had attracted too much attention in the small town. Her brown complexion and startling blue eyes had raised many eyebrows at first. To quell the rumors, Hama had told the villagers that her rebellious daughter had been lured away from home by a "Water Tribe scoundrel," and that Katara had been the unholy product of this partnership, shipped off to her grandmother's care when both of her parents had died.

As Katara had matured, her soft curves had begun to emerge, courtesy of her Water Tribe parentage. Her exotic body was a stark difference from the trim, lithe figures of Fire Nation girls, attracting the stares and catcalls of the village men, while also earning her rude whispers and biting remarks from the village women. Even now, as Katara picked her way around the produce booths searching for cabbages, she heard their hushed comments.

"_There goes that Water Tribe bastard."_

"_Look at all the skin she's showing! Does she have no honor?"_

"_I heard she's going to turn her grandmother's inn into a whorehouse when the old woman dies!"_

Katara fought against rolling her eyes. She'd never even been with a man and yet these lion vultures believed her a whore! Not to mention she was revealing much less skin than many of them! Taking a deep breath through her nose, she worked to calm her rising temper and focus on the task Hama had sent her to do. Besides, she knew that she could silence any one of those catty women with a simple flick of her wrist.

Finally locating the cabbage stand, Katara carefully picked through the selection, looking for the best ones. It was then that she detected an odd emotion running through the market. She felt eyes on her back, more so than usual. Glancing in her peripherals, she noticed some of the village men looking at her strangely. But instead of playful banter or light flirting, their gazes held resentment and an undercurrent of…_fear?_

Logically, Katara knew she would make a formidable opponent; her skill with her element was great, but she had never given any of the villagers a reason to fear her. No one in the small village knew she was a waterbender, save Hama herself. Unable to decipher what was amiss with those men, Katara quickly paid for her cabbages and left the market. She puzzled over the odd emotion her entire way back to the inn, unable to find a reason for their strange reaction to her.

Her mentor was in the middle of cleaning the inn when Katara arrived back from the market. The sun had fully come up now, washing the room in brilliant sunlight. Though, neither Hama nor Katara fully appreciated it; they both preferred the white light of a full moon to the golden rays of the sun.

"Katara, could you finish tidying up while I start the cabbage soup? I'm sure our boarders will be starving when they arrive!" Hama asked. "And when you're done I want you to go out to the garden and practice your Octopus Form stance. I want your motions perfect before you try it with water." Nodding, Katara got to work, busying herself with preparing their travelers' room.

At midday the sounds of heavy ostrich horse hooves sounded from outside the inn. From the garden, Katara saw two figures approaching: a man and a woman. They both had on large straw hats, shielding their eyes from the sun and their faces from Katara's eyes.

"Welcome!" Hama greeted, shuffling out of the inn towards the ostrich horses. "Katara, dear, come take our guests' bags," she called toward the waterbender. As Katara neared, she studied the new arrivals with keen interest. One of the first of things Hama had taught her was to never miss a detail. Both the man and the woman were wearing plain peasant clothing in shades of dull red and tan. The man was built brawny and Katara noticed he had thick, corded muscles, the kind one got from years of hard, physical exertion. Oddly, the woman was just as muscled as the man.

"Thank you," he replied graciously, handing his and the woman's bag to Katara before climbing off his ostrich horse. He bowed deeply in greeting to Hama. "My name is Lee, and this is my wife, Sun Ji."

"A pleasure to meet you. I'm Hama and my granddaughter over there is Katara. I've just prepared some cabbage soup, if you'd like some. You must be hungry after traveling all day. Where did you say you were from, again?" the old woman inquired sweetly, ushering their guests into the inn. Privately, Katara stifled a smirk. Her mentor never missed a chance to interrogate someone.

"We left from our small village a month ago. We're traveling to the coast for our honeymoon," Lee answered.

"Ah, newlyweds! Such an exciting time!" Hama exclaimed. The old woman's voice faded out as Katara left the group, heading to the second level of the inn to deposit the couple's bags in their room. After that, she went outside and led the ostrich horses to the small stable on the side of the inn. She and Hama didn't own any animals of their own, except a few komodo chickens they raised for food, but often times their travelers arrived riding on the back of beasts.

Katara took her time brushing down the ostrich horses, and eventually curled down into the hay beside one, letting it nuzzle her hand affectionately. She hated having to hide from people in her own home, but she couldn't bring herself to socialize with their guests. One thing Katara hadn't been able to overcome since her imprisonment was her distrust of other people, even simple peasants; it had taken her nearly a year before she truly trusted Hama. She couldn't understand how the old woman could bear to paint a smile on her face and chatter with them, as if they weren't part of the very nation that had herded their tribe up like cattle and shipped them away from their homeland. Katara knew; she had been there.

The sight of black snow had been their only warning. Images of it still haunted her dreams at night. The Fire Nation soldiers with their bone-white skeleton masks had swarmed her small village, raiding and pillaging. Katara had been forced to watch as her icy home melted under the blaze of firebender fists. Her father and the few other men in the tribe had tried to fight back, but they were outnumbered. Shackled, they were all led to Fire Nation vessels where they spent the next month living in squalor. When the ships finally docked in the Fire Nation the soldiers split them up into groups to be sent to different work camps. Katara could remember herself crying and begging to stay with her father and her brother. The soldiers had laughed at her tear-stained cheeks. That was the last time she had seen her family.

Now, six years later, Katara couldn't help but wonder what had happened to her father and Sokka. Had they survived wherever the soldiers sent them? Did they ever think about her? She hated that she didn't have answers to these questions. Maybe one day, though, after she'd fixed the deep, black hole in her heart, she'd track them down. They could be a family again, or at least something resembling a family. Katara wasn't naïve enough to think that things would ever go back to normal, before the Fire Nation had killed her mother all those years ago, but she would try.

Back in the present, the hay Katara was lying on suddenly felt softer than a polar bear's fur, and the gentle shuffle of the ostrich horses' feet became a tranquilizing lullaby. Her eyes began to droop lazily. Finally, her mind filled with thoughts of her family, she fell asleep in the stable.

* * *

Katara awoke to darkness. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead and tremors still racked her body from the nightmare; her heart pounded a wild staccato beat, like a tribal drum from the South Pole. Her mind had transported her back to the Fire Nation ship, the one she and her tribe had journeyed on. Only this time, the ship had been empty of soldiers and prisoners. The only other person on board was her mother. As the ship had sailed closer and closer to the Fire Nation her mother had begun to sob.

"_Mom! What's wrong, mom? Stop crying!" _her dream-self had pleaded to no avail. The ship had rocked violently as her mother's tears turned to oozing black sludge. The windows of the ship cracked and seawater had flooded the belly of the ship. Katara had tried to bend the water away and save her mother but her bending was suddenly gone. The last thing she remembered was watching herself and her mother drown, choked by her own element.

Picking herself up from the stable floor, Katara stretched out her cramped muscles and tried to vanquish the fleeting memories of her nightmare from her mind. Dreams like this were nothing new to Katara, but no matter how many she had each one still left her raw and vulnerable. Still feeling slightly out of sorts, Katara decided to head back to the inn to spend the rest of the night in the comfort of a real bed. Briefly, she wondered why Hama hadn't found her in the stable and woken her. Just as she put a hand on the stable's large wooden door, the loud _tip tap_ of footsteps sounded from just outside.

"What are you doing?" a voice hoarsely whispered. It sounded familiar, but as Katara stood, trying to puzzle out who it belonged to, a second voice rang out.

"We're going to need our ostrich horses." All at once the realization hit her. It was the couple, Lee and Sun Ji. Suspicion crept up her spine; what were they doing out here in the middle of the night?

"No, we can't take the ostrich horses. I don't want us alerting any of the neighbors. For all we know, the old woman has accomplices. Not to mention the granddaughter's disappeared," Lee responded. Katara shrank back from the door as the meaning of their words sank in. They were looking for her, and if "the old woman" referred to Hama, then her mentor was in trouble too.

"Fine. We'll walk to the village and bring back reinforcements." Tonight was the first time Katara had heard Sun Ji speak and the woman's voice sent shivers down her back. It was hard and cold, just like Lee's. The newlywed-peasant-act had been just that, an act.

Katara let out a relieved sigh as she watched the two figures disappear down the dirt road towards town. Racing out of the stable, she hurried to the inn, throwing the door open and nearly running into Hama. Katara grabbed the old woman's shoulders to steady her so she didn't fall.

"Hama!―Lee―Sun Ji―they're not who―" Katara struggled to find the words, but Hama beat her to it.

"I know. They're Fire Nation soldiers." Katara's eyebrows hit her hairline in an expression of disbelief and puzzlement. "I'm old, but not daft, Katara. The man, Lee, he has the mark of the Interior Guard on his forearm. He's been trying to cover it with his sleeve, but I saw it when I showed them to their room," Hama revealed.

"I overheard them on their way into the village. They said they were bringing in reinforcements. What were they talking about? Even if they know who we are, the war's been over for two years! It's not a crime to be a waterbender anymore! We haven't done anything wrong!" Katara's eyes blazed with contempt. She looked towards Hama for reassurance but found that the old woman couldn't meet her eyes. "Did…did you do something, Hama? Did you break the law?" Katara questioned, suddenly unsure.

"It was to avenge our people, Katara―" Hama began.

"What did you do?" Katara accused, her eyes narrowing.

"I was only using the powers that the Spirits gave me!" Hama yelled vehemently. Her long white hair was disheveled, falling around her wrinkled face in wispy strands. The deep grey color of her eyes seemed like liquid silver, ablaze with anger.

"You bloodbended," Katara whispered. The word felt funny on her tongue. Even after mastering and advancing the technique under Hama's tutelage, a small part of her still felt disgusted with herself, and her mentor, for ever having used it.

"Yes," Hama answered coldly, "I needed information from a Fire Nation soldier."

"For what?" Katara interrogated.

"You know, in all the years you've stayed with me, you never once asked me where I go during the full moon," the old woman began, ignoring her pupil's question. "When my powers are at their greatest, when the moon is full and the Spirits guide my every move, I work for the one thing that has ruled my existence since I was taken from the South Pole: revenge. I know the same desire lies in your heart, Katara. I see it when you train. Your thirst for vengeance is clear."

"Maybe you're right, but the Interior Guard is here, Hama. They're coming back and they're going to arrest you!" Katara snapped. "We need to get ready to fight!"

"No, Katara. No fighting." The young waterbender looked at her mentor with disbelief. "Maybe they know we're waterbenders, or maybe it was luck, but they chose to attack on the new moon. Our powers are too weak to fight," Hama explained.

"Then what do we do?"

"You must finish my work for me, Katara." Hama declared solemnly.

"You mean leave you here?"

"Yes, leave me and go to Capital City and avenge the Southern Water Tribe!" the old woman raved.

"How, Hama? Fire Lord Ozai died two years ago. The war is over," Katara countered.

"But his son lives! The world must be purged entirely of the family that began this devastating war, the family responsible for our tribe's demise!"

Desperation. It was the only word to describe the look in the old woman's eyes. Carefully, Katara asked one more question: "What exactly are you asking me to do, Hama?"

"I want you to kill the Fire Lord, Katara."

* * *

**Author's Note: **So that's it! The second installment of _The Bloodbender's Tale_! Now we see how Zuko plays into the story. Hopefully you understood what was going on with the Fire Nation soldiers and Hama and all that jazz. Also, the "Interior Guard" is just something I made up. It's basically just the police force, but I didn't want to say "police" because that didn't sound very Avatar-y. They're in charge of policing the homeland. So anyways, if you didn't understand parts of this chapter, let me know because that means I need to add in more parts to clarify. Sometimes things make total sense in my brain but when I write it out some of it gets lost in translation, of sorts. Also: just want to say thanks to Eleventy7 who gave me some good feedback! And for anyone else, reviews are welcome :)


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of its affiliated characters

* * *

**Chapter 2 **

The bright midday sun cloaked Zuko in its warm embrace as he sat in the Royal gardens relaxing. Half a dozen baby turtle ducks swam around a small pond, competing for his attention in the hopes of receiving a morsel of bread. At the sight of the turtle ducks, the barest of smiles turned the firebender's lips up. He knew that mountains of official court documents impatiently awaited his signature, but the thought of spending one more minute in his stuffy, windowless office had driven him out of the palace and straight to the gardens. Even the Fire Lord needed the occasional break.

The last two years of Zuko's life had been exhausting. Since accepting the Fire Lord title and ending the war his days had been occupied with endless peace conferences, meetings on war reparations, and the everyday dealings of the Royal Court. Sometimes he wondered if he truly was cutout for the position. Leading a nation out from behind the shadow of a hundred-year war was a monstrous feat for anyone, let alone a teenager. However, Zuko was determined to cleanse his beloved culture of the stain his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather had left on it.

The thought of Fire Lord Ozai, had Zuko's fingers reaching up to touch the scar around his left eye. The memories were fresh in his mind as he ran his fingertips over the marred skin. At thirteen his father had taught him a lesson in humility that he'd never forget. The subsequent banishment had torn a hole in his soul that was, even now, only tenuously mended.

"What are you doing out here alone, Zuko?" A familiar voice broke the firebender from his heavy thoughts.

"I could ask the same of you, Uncle," he replied sardonically. The former general merely smiled at his nephew's antics. Zuko had always been a bit prickly, not nearly as much as his sister, but difficult nonetheless.

"The best jasmine in all of the Fire Nation grows here. It makes a perfect cup of tea," Iroh explained.

"Didn't I forbid anyone but the Royal gardeners from harvesting the plants here?" Zuko asked, one eyebrow raised.

"It'll be a secret, just between me and you, Nephew." Iroh shuffled over to a jasmine bush and began clipping off several of the fragrant white flowers.

"You want me, the one who implemented the rule, to keep it a secret?" Zuko smirked.

"Precisely." His uncle's matter-of-fact reply came unbidden as the old man focused on collecting the flowers with military precision. It was this light humor of Iroh's that had helped keep Zuko sane during the four long years of his banishment. For the first two years the ex-prince had sailed around the world determined to find the Avatar and bring him home to his father to regain the honor he had lost. Zuko had forced himself and his crew to the far reaches of the world on what most considered a fool's errand. After visiting the Northern, Eastern, and Western Air Temples without finding anything, Zuko had set sail for the Southern Air Temple, clinging to it as his last chance of regaining his honor. When he'd arrived at the temple and found not a trace of any living creature his heart had twisted painfully. It was one of the lowest points in his life.

_Bright flames danced from the young firebender's fists as he angrily hurled balls of fire at the stone walls of the temple. _

"_Zuko, calm down!" Iroh shouted at his enraged nephew. The firebender in question stalked towards his uncle in fury._

"_Calm down?! You told me the Avatar would be at one of the Air Temples! Well, look around! Do you see him here?!" Zuko yelled, steam pouring from his nostrils._

"_I said the Air Temples would be a good place to start, Zuko. I never said the Avatar would be hiding out in one." Iroh attempted to reason with his nephew but the boy was quick to temper, like his father. _

"_What am I supposed to do now? Sail around the world for the rest of my life looking for an Avatar that can't be found?" All the fight seemed to drain out of Zuko as he fell to his knees in the Air Temple courtyard. Iroh kneeled down next to him, the boy who he had come to think of as a son. _

"_Sometimes, Zuko, that which you desire most is not what destiny has in store for you," the old man professed._

"_What are you trying to say, Uncle?" Zuko muttered, tired of the old man's cryptic proverbs._

"_I'm saying that perhaps you are looking for happiness in the wrong place. Returning to the Fire Nation may not be what is best for you," Iroh replied._

"_That's easy for you to say, you can go back; you aren't banished," Zuko sulked._

"_You're right, I'm not banished. And yet, I choose to stay with you, to follow you around the world on this mad quest of yours. Let me tell you, Nephew, it is not because I enjoy sleeping on the ship's uncomfortable bed pallets every night!" Zuko's mouth lifted in a slight smile in spite of his foul mood. The pallets really were quite stiff._

"_Then where do we go from here, Uncle?" the firebender wondered. He had lived his whole life surrounded by the gluttonous riches of the Royal Court. He'd paid witness to the power plays and betrayals, the deceit and cruelty. It was all he knew. _

"_I think it is time I showed you the pearl of the Earth Kingdom, Nephew. The site of my greatest sorrow: Ba Sing Se."_

Four years later and worlds away from the troubled boy he had once been, the Fire Lord gazed upon his uncle, privately thanking Agni that his lineage had managed to produce at least one honorable man for him to look up to. Without his uncle's influence, Zuko could scarcely imagine what kind of man he would have become.

After Iroh had finished collecting the jasmine flowers he beckoned Zuko with a finger to follow him back into the palace. The firebender followed obediently, already knowing where the old man was taking him. Iroh's private tea room was decorated in rich golds and vibrant reds. As they entered, a dozen small bowls around the room erupted with flames, filling the space with a warm ambiance. Besides the gardens and the armory, this was Zuko's favorite place in the palace. In fact, several stacks of his paperwork littered the area as he often hid here to escape from his bothersome advisors.

Immediately, Iroh got to work, pulling out the jasmine flowers and boiling some water. Zuko rested on a plush divan, sorting through applications for domestic positions in the palace. The work was tedious, but he had wanted to present himself as a strong leader and had insisted that all decisions, even trivialities such as servant applications, went to him for final approval. It was all about flexing his power as Fire Lord, showing his political adversaries that he was in control. The Royal Court was always filled with hungry lion vultures, waiting for the faintest whiff of weakness from him to swoop down and take his title.

As an ex-prince of the Fire Nation, he had originally received scorn for trying to claim the Fire Lord title after hearing of his father's murder. Some of the nobles had argued that since Ozai had disowned him, he was not capable of inheriting the crown. Their real issue, however, had been with his ideas of ending the war. Living in Ba Sing Se for two years among war refugees had opened his eyes and shown him just how much of a monster his father and his nation had become. After news reached Ba Sing Se of Ozai's murder at the hands of his sister, Zuko and Iroh had immediately boarded a ship for the Fire Nation. Upon their arrival in Capitol City, they found the town in chaos. Azula had declared herself Fire Lord and was reportedly mentally unhinged.

Iroh had set up a secret meeting with the nobles and presented the idea of Zuko taking the crown. Though the old general was still held in high esteem among members of the Royal Court, many of the nobles were still hesitant of Iroh's plan and a few were adamant that Zuko never become Fire Lord. However, it was either him or his unstable, power-obsessed sister. The nobles had never really had a choice. Azula was declared a traitor and condemned for the assassination of Ozai. Zuko became the Fire Lord.

In exchange for taking the crown and saving his nation from Azula, Zuko had one condition: that the nobles allow him to end the Hundred Year War. An angry backlash from the Royal Court had been expected, but what Zuko had really feared was a revolt from his people. After news spread throughout the nation of the new Fire Lord's proposed peace treaty, Zuko had held his breath in the palace, waiting for any signs of public displeasure. To his surprise, informants had relayed that many of the common folk were indifferent if not relieved at his decision to end the war. Apparently, they were tired of sending their young men and women off to fight year after year. But most of all, they craved stability, and Zuko was determined to give it to them.

Over the next two years, as he worked with representatives from the Earth Kingdom and both the Water Tribes to restore peace in the world, he also tirelessly tried to ensure that his own people were not forgotten. More than anything he wanted to be remembered as a great Fire Lord and a strong leader, and if that meant going over every servant application during his reign, then Agni-be-damned, he would do it.

"Take a sip and tell me what you think, Zuko," Iroh asked, placing a cup down beside his lounging nephew. The firebender picked up the tea and swallowed a mouthful. The hot liquid flowed down his throat and into his stomach, the piping heat of it adding to his inner fire.

"You were right, that jasmine does make a great cup of tea," Zuko replied, sipping some more of it. Iroh beamed in delight and sat down in a chair to enjoy his own cup. Grabbing a stack of applications, the old general leafed through them with interest.

"Are you not done with these yet? It seems like you've been reviewing them for ages," Iroh commented.

"I've been busy!" the firebender protested.

"Ah, yes. I understand," the old man smirked. "You've been busy…with Lady Mai, perhaps?" Iroh slyly inquired, feigning nonchalance. Zuko choked on his tea at his uncle's implications.

"Absolutely not!" he sputtered vehemently between coughs.

"So, you have no romantic notions towards Lady Mai, your girlfriend and the woman many surmise to be the future Fire Lady?" Iroh questioned innocuously. Zuko shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He hated when his uncle and political advisors talked of marriage; he was only nineteen for Agni's sake!

"It's complicated, Uncle. Mai is…she's…dear to me, but I am not ready for talks of marriage."

"Perhaps not, but I see that the young woman cares deeply for you, Zuko. She's had an excellent upbringing and a marriage to her would appease some of your political adversaries," Iroh pointed out.

"Yes, I know," Zuko acknowledged, calm after his outburst, "But I will choose who and when I marry; I'm not going to allow the Royal Court to force my hand in this matter."

"I will stand behind you, no matter what your decision, but be careful, Zuko. The heart of a young woman is a fragile thing to hold," the old man sighed wistfully, his eyes lost in memories only he could see.

"Shall we get back to these applications now?" Zuko interrupted the old man's reverie.

"Of course," Iroh replied, broken from his brief daze before he too returned to flipping through the pieces of parchment. Both sat in comfortable silence, sipping their tea. Zuko was so at ease that he felt his eyelids begin to droop. Thankfully, an outburst from Iroh kept him from falling asleep.

"Oh! What a strange name…though very beautiful," the old man suddenly murmured, his eyes tracing the paper in his hands.

"What?" Zuko asked.

"A woman, well a girl, really, who's applied to be a laundress. Her name, it's quite distinctive," Iroh answered.

"What is it?" the firebender demanded.

"Katara." Iroh tentatively sounded it out, testing the feel of it on his tongue. Zuko agreed with his uncle; it was decidedly not a Fire Nation name, though it was still beautiful in an exotic way. "She must be of Watertribe descent. Very unusual. Oh, that reminds me, Zuko. I've received a letter from the Southern Watertribe Chief. He and his council will be arriving in two weeks time to finish the peace negotiations..."

Zuko tried listened to his uncle talk politics, but that name kept drifting into his thoughts. _Katara._ It was familiar, but he couldn't quite place where he'd heard it before. Shaking his head, he pushed it from his mind, assuring himself that it was nothing.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So...the plot thickens! Or hopefully becomes a little clearer, actually. Now you know how Zuko became Fire Lord and why he ended the war, all that stuff! But I'm sure you have other questions...such as "What happened to Azula?" and "Where in the heck is Aang?" Rest assured, all your questions will be answered. _Eventually!_ If i did my job right, then you have a good idea of what is coming up in the story, and I'll admit the foreshadowing in this chapter was shameless! I'm also hoping you don't think too badly of me because I've now introduced two of the most overused Zutara plot lines ever: 1. Katara is an assassin who is tasked to kill Zuko, and 2. Katara is Zuko's servant. It may look like that at first, but things are going to go off tangent soon. Also, this one is a little short but I updated a lot faster than I ever have, so next chapter will probably be longer but might take more time. Thanks for all who reviewed and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


End file.
